


wenn liebe in mir ist

by sunflowerbright



Category: Tanz der Vampire - Steinman/Kunze
Genre: M/M, Other, more to come - Freeform, this is just a hoard of ficlets i've written for this pairing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-06
Updated: 2014-03-25
Packaged: 2018-01-11 10:31:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 13,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1172002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunflowerbright/pseuds/sunflowerbright
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Collection of ficlets for AlfredxHerbert, some in-verse, some AU, some prompts and some just nonsensical fluff.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. sleepy vampires

Herbert woke up disgruntled, which really was par the course whenever he woke before he was supposed to. It wasn’t like he _needed_ the beauty sleep, but it was nice to have just as a precaution. Usually, he was a heavy sleeper, and so he was surprised at what could possibly be waking him up, and way before his assigned rising-time too.

It turned out it was the lid slipping off his coffin. Herbert blinked the sleep away, his mind racing, asserting the possibilities: his father would be much louder in waking his son up, especially because he never ever interrupted Herbert unless there was an emergency or he was in a Very Particular and Angry slash Angsty Mood, and it certainly wouldn’t be the first time a few humans had accidentally wandered into the castle, or in other cases, _not_ so accidentally.

He was therefore very surprised when it was none of these, but instead a very disgruntled and heavy-eyed Alfred, blinking down at him with a small frown. Herbert sat up immediately, reaching out to cup his face.

"Alfred! What are you doing up? Darling, are you ill?"

"I couldn’t sleep," Alfred said the words in a rush, like they were the most embarrassing ones he had ever let out, and Herbert couldn’t stop a gigantic smile from spreading on his face at the sight of Alfred’s look: had he still been human, he would have been completely red in the face by now, but the scrunching of his nose and eyebrows and the quick blinking of his eyes more than made up for the way he had blushed so prettily before. He looked quite simply _adorable._

"Aw, darling," Herbert said, trying to shake his own fatigue away. "Do you want me to read to you?"

Alfred hesitated. “I didn’t… you need your sleep, I didn’t mean to…”

He stilled his words with a finger on his lips, making a slight disapproving sound. “You wouldn’t have woken me if it didn’t matter. I can keep you company.” He could go without sleep, even if he was tired. It meant more Alfred-time, his mind supplied, and while he might not be awake enough to fully appreciate it, he wasn’t going to let Alfred just sit up all day, especially not if his melancholy suddenly struck him again. Herbert always got so anxious when they did.

Alfred shuffled his feet, looking down at the floor. “I just… I was wondering… if it would be… um, I mean, we’re both tired and…” he stuttered and then stopped, looking absolutely mortified with himself. Herbert was more than interested.

"Yes?"

"If I could…" the boy took a deep breath (like he still needed it, these habits of his were just so adorable), and reached out to touch the hand that Herbert had now rested on the edge of the coffin. "if I could stay with you?"

The tiredness made sure it took a few moments for Herbert to process what Alfred had been saying. When it did, he had to stop himself from screeching in joy. It would be undignified. Not to mention that it would wake up father, and then Alfred would probably be mortified and hide on his own until it was actual time to get up, and Herbert would miss this. He knew with utter certainty that no matter how tired he was, he wasn’t going to get any sleep if he couldn’t have Alfred pressed close to him.

"Mon Cheri, of course you can!" he said, and was ready to reach out and help Alfred in, but the other boy was already bundling up, slipping in beside him like he’d been as eager for this as Herbert suddenly was (and his dead heart gave a small jump at the thought). He slipped his arms around Herbert and rested his head on his chest, letting out a quiet sigh.

"Thank you," he said, his voice already growing heavier with sleep, and Herbert silently ran a hand through his hair, waiting to make sure he was comfortably slipping off before closing his eyes himself, drifting off with a smile to rival the never-seen sun on his face.


	2. sleepy vampires take two

Alfred woke up slowly, and upon doing so, realised it was still a bit too early - or late, he was still getting used to being awake at night and sleeping during the day - to get out just yet.

But he was waking up now because he wasn’t alone.

For just a moment panic set in, the claustrophobic feeling of the coffin returning to a brain that was still used to thinking in human terms - it had taken a while, but he had adjusted to sleeping in a box, could do so fine, in fact. Most nights. He wasn’t about to tell Herbert, or anyone, that he still sometimes woke and didn’t know where he was, and thought he had been buried alive.

He hadn’t, of course. He wasn’t alive.

But one thing he most certainly wasn’t used to, was waking up with someone else. He drew in a breath, an automatic way to gather his thoughts, and got a mouthful of hair in his mouth for his trouble: more specifically, Herbert’s hair.

They’d shifted, in the night. Alfred remembered falling asleep basically on top of the older vampire, hardly having time to arrange himself comfortably before he was slipping off, as if merely touching Herbert suddenly made all his anxieties go away. Now they were lying side by side, facing each other, Alfred tucked into Herbert’s arms like he was a very big teddy-bear, his face nestled by his shoulder and neck. Their legs were tangled together in a heap. His arms were tight around Alfred, and he realised that his own hand was curled lightly in the thin undershirt Herbert had worn to bed.

They were so close and nestled so comfortably, and Alfred knew that they were both as cold as the death that had claimed them, but he felt warm. Even with hardly any space now, he was endlessly more comfortable than in his own coffin. Herbert’s was slightly bigger, mainly because Alfred had just crawled into the nearest available one that fit, and Herbert’s had been with him for years, probably custom-made of mahogany or something silly and expensive like that, but not by much, and they were so incredibly close within the space of it.

Closer than they had been for a long time, because this was all so new and scary, and while he still had a predilection for standing all too close and placing his hands on Alfred’s shoulder or waist to guide him or get his attention, Herbert had been… surprisingly good at giving him his private space. Alfred appreciated it - more than the expensive clothes and books and offers for anything else he might desire. He would have never thought, after the first time he had met the vampire, that Herbert could be so considerate.

And now there was this as well. Alfred had woken Herbert up in the middle of the night - day - with apparently no other reason than the fact that he himself could not sleep, like some child endlessly seeking entertainment as soon as its absence was felt. And all Herbert had done was offer to stay up with him, despite his eyes already drooping low as he spoke, tiredness still colouring his voice.

It had been so nice of him. But it hadn’t been what Alfred wanted.

Turning for hours in his coffin, unable to go to sleep, he had been hit with a sudden wave of loneliness, and the only thought in his mind was that he wanted Herbert. His brain had been tired enough to think it a good idea, so he had gone and done it without really stopping himself to think, only getting embarrassed when the deed was actually done, and Herbert was looking at him, hair slightly mussed from sleep and his long, black lashes casting shadows on his face. He’d wanted to backtrack immediately, but Herbert would not have let it go, he knew: which was why he had ended up here, now, feeling light and warm and held close.

Oh, god, but he had practically begged to be let in, and wasn’t that just all kinds of awkward. Herbert must think him quite pathetic, Alfred realised, and suddenly the warm feeling was gone and all he wanted was to get away, and pretend all of this had never happened.

Of course, as if sensing his sudden shift of mood, Herbert chose that exact moment to wake up.

He woke up as smoothly as he did everything else, stretching his long limbs as much as the space would allow, his arms tightening around Alfred. Had he still required breath, it would have likely hurt, but as it was he only got the sense of being held protectively, possessively and closely, like he was never going to have to worry about being let go of. If only.

One of Herbert’s hands slid up his back, cradling the back of his head gently, and he felt a jolt in his stomach as Herbert muttered something incoherent, shifting closer and nuzzling at his hair.

"Goodmorning," he managed to get out. "I mean… I mean goodnight."

He could feel Herbert smiling, and then he threw one leg over his and somehow pulled him even closer. “And to you, _Mon Cheri_. Did you sleep well?”

Alfred swallowed heavily. “I… I slept fine… I, I have to say, I am very sorry for the inconvenience and it won’t…”

“ _I_ ,” Herbert interrupted him then, his voice high and happy, but with a strange undertone of steel that Alfred had not often heard. “Slept absolutely _divine_. I think we should do this again, because I’m not sure I’ll get a minute of close-eye if you aren’t there.”

He was not physically able to blush, and so it was absolutely impossible that Alfred could feel himself doing so. And yet, here he was.

"R-really?" he stammered out, gasping as Herbert ached his back slightly and made a low purring noise.

"Yes," Herbert answered, and it sounded quite like a promise.


	3. the sun shines bright for you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning for descriptions of injuries, burns and slight hints of suicidal ideation

He hadn’t meant to be so careless, he really hadn’t. It was just like when he had been a little boy and his caretaker had told him not to climb into the tree, and he had done so anyway, because it was big and sturdy and could surely hold him.

Alfred still remembered the branches snapping off beneath him, the hurdle to the ground feeling like it went on forever before it was blocked out by pain. He’d broken his arm and bruised almost everything else, and he had learned not to climb trees ever again.

After the first week of not feeling completely miserable as a vampire, he had ventured outside and found the biggest tree he could, climbing up in it effortlessly, seating himself on a branch high above the ground. He had almost been close enough to touch the moon.

"What are you doing?" Herbert had appeared right behind him, and Alfred had startled, but had not fallen down and hurt himself again.

"N-nothing," he’d stammered, embarrassed at being caught doing such a childish thing as climbing trees. "I was… looking at the sky."

"Oh, yes," Herbert had said, smiling at him. "It is very beautiful."

Herbert wasn’t smiling now. Quite the opposite.

"What were you _thinking?!”_

"I have apologised," Alfred mumbled, his head ducked low, staring down at his hands. The burn itched and stung, and it didn’t help that Herbert currently had a tight hold on his hand, cold water dripping from the cloth he held in the other one. It soothed only slightly, but Alfred knew that there was nothing else to be done but let it attempt to heal.

He was not even fully focused on the burn: his attention rested on Herbert, whose jaw was clenched tight as he stared at the awful mark traveling from the back of Alfred’s hand and over his wrist, ending on his forearm.

"The sun can hurt you, Alfred."

"Evidently," Alfred said, not meaning to sound so… sarcastic. Herbert’s eyes snapped up to his, and Alfred was hit with how angry he looked.

 _He’s angry at me,_ he thought, and made a motion to pull his hand away. Herbert didn’t let go.

"How could you be so careless?" Herbert’s words came out in a hiss, his eyes blazing. "How could anything be so interesting as to make you leave your wits behind completely? Were you up waiting for the sun? Had you been fool enough to forget what would happen?"

Alfred winced. “No. No, Herbert, I’m sorry, I don’t know what…”

"You didn’t think," Herbert nearly spat the words out, and Alfred could hardly recognise him now, like this. He was shaking - they both were, Herbert more so than him. From fury, he thought. "You always think, you think too much, and then when it matters you deign to not think at all!"

"Well now!" Alfred couldn’t stop himself. "It was an accident…"

"An _accident,”_ his nails were digging into Alfred’s skin now, not piercing it quite, but still hard enough to be uncomfortable. He was not looking at him anymore either, but down at the burn, his face twisted in anger and displeasure and…

And worry.

Oh. Alfred hadn’t realised.

"An accident," Herbert repeated, with less heat but no less disgust. "You have to be careful."

"Yes," Alfred mumbled. "I will… I really didn’t mean to, Herbert."

"An accident," he said for the third time. "Alfred, how could you?"

This time, he did pull his hand back, easier now that Herbert’s grip had loosened as the fight seemed to leave him. He rested the injured hand on his leg and reached out with the other, gently placing it on Herbert’s shoulder.

"You never made such a mistake?" he asked, trying to keep his voice gentle: he wasn’t criticising, merely trying to avoid more of the anger that would eat them both.

"Of course I did," Herbert said, his voice fretful. "Father was cross, but then he just said it would make me learn."

Alfred smiled and looked down at the burn again. “Trust me, this has made me learn as well.”

And then suddenly he was being pulled in by strong arms, careful not to jostle his wounded limbs as he was hugged tight.

"It was an accident," Herbert mumbled into his hair, so soft Alfred almost couldn’t hear it. He sounded like he was reassuring himself.

"It was," he intoned. "I’m sorry that I…"

"You scared me," Herbert finished the sentence for him.

"Yes. I’m very sorry for that."

"Don’t get careless again."

"I’ll try my best not to."

Herbert’s arms tightened even more around him. “Don’t do it again, Alfred.”

He didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t exactly promise Herbert that he would never be or get hurt again - even if he was careful, there were variables that he just couldn’t predict, and they had to be put into account. But the older vampire was clinging to him like he was his last life-line (and wasn’t that just an ironic thought), and Alfred wasn’t sure that he could deny him.

But he couldn’t make empty promises either. He simply wasn’t such a person.

"I’ll pull the blinds much earlier next time," he said instead, feeling like a selfish fool, and Herbert sighed, clearly not satisfied with the response, but his grip on him loosened slightly.

"You are insufferable, my love," he whispered into his hair, and Alfred had to smile.

"You should try living with _you_ ,” he responded, waiting for the laugh that such a statement would usually draw from Herbert: none came. Instead he pressed a kiss to the crown of Alfred’s head and mumbled something he couldn’t hear.

"What was that?"

"I said, I think we should be going to bed."

"No, you didn’t," Alfred insisted, frowning as Herbert pulled slightly away. He was smiling fondly when their eyes met, and Alfred could feel the tension leave him. He still made himself frown at his lover.

"Herbert?"

"Yes, darling?"

He sighed, and decided not to press the issue. “I promise to be careful.”

Herbert’s smile turned a little brighter. “I am delighted, love.” He leaned in for a kiss, but Alfred found himself pulling back.

"I really didn’t mean to," he said, because it was important: because he needed to make sure that Herbert was not angry anymore, would not look so worried and down again. He wasn’t sure he could bear it. But he also needed to get this out. "But you shouldn’t be scolding me like I am a child."

For a moment Herbert froze, staring at him in surprise. Alfred thought he might be angry again, but then he smiled, tired yet still bright. Like always.

"Ah, yes, darling. I should apologise for that. I am very sorry." He moved to pull away again, turn them around and head for bed, but Alfred dug his feet in, his eyes desperately searching Herbert’s face.

"I have never… had anyone so angry at me," he said. "Or, I have, I most certainly have, but never… never over something such as this."

Herbert sighed, impatience flittering over his brow. “I honestly didn’t mean to Alfred, I know I overreacted…”

"But why did you?"

"What?"

"Why did you overreact?"

Alfred thought it a sensible question, but now Herbert was staring at him as if he had just suggested they set all of his favourite clothes on fire.

"Why did I…" he spluttered and then stopped himself, and it was perhaps the most surreal experience Alfred had ever had, seeing Herbert speechless like this. And considering what his life - and unlife - had been like these past couple of months, that was saying a lot.

"Herbert?"

"You are too much!" Herbert said, and oh no, he was angry with Alfred again, except this time he was more huffy, and very obviously hurt.

"I’m sorry!" he yelped, though he was not quite sure what he had done. "I wasn’t…"

"Do you mean to drive me to the brink of madness before you leave?" Herbert suddenly yelled, startling Alfred beyond all reason. "Is that what you are trying to do?"

"Drive you to the brink… _leave?!”_

The angry light in Herbert’s eyes blazed out. “I didn’t mean that.”

Alfred blinked in confusion. “You very obviously did.”

And then, as quickly as he had gotten angry, it left him again, Herbert standing before him looking for all the world like a lost little pup. It was odd, because the older vampire had often described Alfred as looking like that.

"Herbert?" his voice was tentative, afraid of threading on ground he wasn’t supposed to. Herbert’s eyes met his, sad yet shielded, guarded like he didn’t want Alfred to see, or perhaps thought that Alfred would rather not see.

"You are not accustomed to people growing angry with you when you get careless with your own well-being?" Herbert asked, although it sounded more like a statement, and Alfred was even more confused, before the words finally settled.

"That probably sounds worse than it was," he said, shrugging slightly. Herbert looked insulted, suddenly.

"They were fools," he said, voice cold. "For letting you think that."

"I hardly think its anyone fault, its just that I am very, mmmpffjj," his words were cut off as Herbert pressed their lips together, his hands fisting in the lapels of Alfred’s shirt, drawing him close. He was reeling when Herbert pulled back, his head spinning even though it did not lack any air, because it did not need it.

"I am not trying to treat you like a child, and I will do my best not to, but when you get hurt, Alfred, then I am going to care," Herbert said, Alfred hardly able to process the words before Herbert locked their eyes together. "Is that understood?"

"Y-yes."

"Good," Herbert said, and then smiled brightly down at him. "How’s your hand?"

Oh right. He’d burned it. He had completely forgotten all about the hurt in the last few minutes of rushing emotions. He looked down at it, and Herbert made a pleased noise when they found that it had already healed quite extensively.

"See?" Alfred said, flexing his fingers. "All better."

Herbert smiled down at him. “All perfect.”


	4. under the weater (worried vampire edition)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Modern!AU with human!Alfred and vampire!Herbert

This really wasn’t fair. Alfred had been feeling sluggish all day, but he had dragged himself through his classes by thinking about his date with Herbert that same night – he’d basically been counting down the hours, trying to ignore the fact that he was only feeling worse and worse, before finally getting back to the dorm and admitting to himself, while the room spun around him, that he should probably cancel on their plans.

He really didn’t want to, especially because he was pretty sure it was just a bad case of the flu, and it wasn’t like he could infect Herbert anyway, but that time when he had gone to the movies with him despite having a splitting headache, Herbert had gotten extremely upset when he had found out, and immediately shooed him off to bed. He’d been huffy with Alfred for a week after that, and it had taken about as long for Alfred to realise that it was because Herbert didn’t like it when he wasn’t overtly careful with his own health.

 _It’s not like the flu will kill me,_ he thought, dialling the vampire’s number on his phone. He could imagine Herbert overreacting though: he always did when Alfred got hurt. Then again, back when Herbert had been human, something like the flu _could_ probably kill you, and often did, so maybe he did have a little more reason for it, this time.

With that in mind, Alfred decided that Herbert didn’t need to know exactly how much the room was currently spinning, or how heavy his head was feeling.

“Alfred,” Herbert always managed to say his name like him calling was the best thing to ever happen to him. “Hello, dear.”

“Hi,” he mumbled, clearing his throat as he realised his voice sounded as scratchy as a broken record. “Listen, um, I’m not feeling too well and I’m really tired, and I’d probably be no fun at all anyway, so can we take a raincheck on tonight?”

“You’re ill?” Ah, there the immediate concern was, layering Herbert’s voice.

“It’s nothing serious,” he quickly said. “I’m just a bit sluggish, and I’m tired…”

“Did you get the nurse to check on you? Are you dehydrated? Did you…”

“Herbert!” he hated interrupting people, and especially Herbert, but he knew that his boyfriend could go on for hours if need be. “We talked about this, remember, humans get under the weather and I just need to rest and I’ll be all fine in the morning.”

“I remember,” Herbert said, sounding petulant. “I also remember when you sprained your wrist and didn’t tell me for three days.”

“My wrist was fine, there was no need to…”

“You were _in the hospital_.”

“For like five minutes to get it set, honestly.”

There was silence on the other end, or there would have been, except Alfred was sure that he could hear Herbert pouting. He sighed.

“I’m telling you now, aren’t I?” he asked quietly. He could have told Herbert that he had a lot of studying to do, and helpful as Herbert was, he was also often a distraction – Alfred couldn’t really count the number of times they’d ended up making out on top of his papers and homework. His Physics book still had a few crumbled pages after Herbert had pushed it on the floor. But even if he hated making Herbert worry, he liked lying to him even less, and he was already getting a bitter burn at the back of his throat just from not telling him how bad he was actually feeling right now.

Although that could just be another coughing fit coming on.

“You’re sure you’ll be okay?” Oh, he couldn’t stay annoyed with Herbert when he sounded like that, all small and unsure and _worried._

Worried about Alfred. Because he cared about him. It was pretty baffling, still.

“Yeah, I just need to read for my classes tomorrow, and then I’ll tuck in, I promise.” If he could actually walk up and get over to his desk.

There was a brief silence on the other end.

“You should really just be going to bed,” Herbert said then, and _oh no._

“Really, I’ll just do this and… it’s no trouble,” but then he started coughing, really coughing, doubling over and dropping the phone. His vision swam, and he grasped for his phone.

“Really,” he said, trying to sound convincing.

“I’m coming over,” Herbert said, and hung up before Alfred could even pretend to protest. Truth be told, Alfred would rather have him here, where he could keep an eye on him and make sure he didn’t worry himself to death.

Or, well… more to death.

He managed to take off his shoes and throw the blankets over himself, before his window suddenly slid open and Herbert crawled in gracefully, like this was a completely normal way to enter someone’s bedroom.

“The dorm has a door,” Alfred mumbled, pressing his face into his pillow. He was starting to feel like he was in a sauna. “Use it, please.”

“You didn’t give me a key,” Herbert said, pouting as he slid the window closed again.

“We’re only allowed one key each.”

“You could just make a copy for me.”

“And then it’d get discovered and I’d get kicked out and be homeless.”

“And then you could come stay with me!”

Alfred snorted, peeking out as Herbert seated himself on the edge of his bed, lightly placing a hand on his back – or, on the blanket in about the place where his back was.

“You see,” Alfred mumbled, trying not to sneeze. “I’m all fine.” He did his best to sound convincing, but judging by Herbert’s frown, it did not work.

“You’re burning up,” he said then, resting the back of his hand against Alfred’s forehead, clearly surprised when Alfred’s reaction was to moan in relief and grasp hold of his wrist, keeping him where he was.

“Cold,” was all he said as a matter of explanation, even though it should probably be obvious: but the relief was instant, Herbert’s cold skin quenching some of the flames that had started licking over Alfred’s.

Licking…

“Is your tongue cold too?” he muttered, his tongue feeling leaden and heavy. Just like his head. And his limbs. Oh no.

“What?” Herbert was laughing.

“Nevermind,” Alfred let his eyes slip closed, sighing in near-contentment. Now he really was happy that Herbert had decided to barge in here, and make sure that he was okay. His grip on Herbert’s wrist loosened, and he felt his hand shift, long fingers brushing through his hair.

“You usually hate that I’m cold,” Herbert whispered, his voice suddenly closer than it had been before. “You’re really not well, are you?”

Alfred scrunched his nose in protest. “I don’t _hate_ it,” he protested, despite the fact that they both knew how much he loathed extreme temperatures, in either direction, but _especially_ in the freezing levels. It was one of the reasons Alfred had four blankets. The last had been added after Herbert started staying over at times. Though usually Alfred didn’t have a high fever spiking.

“You need something to drink,” Herbert said, getting up. Alfred immediately missed him. And the cold.

He really was ill.

Herbert returned quickly, but only to place a glass on his nightstand, before he disappeared again. Alfred managed to push himself up, and drink almost all of it, before Hebert returned with a mug of tea.

Alfred groaned and flopped back down on his back.

“I don’t want tea.”

“Well, you probably shouldn’t drink it while it’s boiling hot,” Herbert dryly said, placing it beside the other glass. “But you are going to drink it. It’s good for you.”

“Ugh.”

“You’re acting like a baby,” Herbert said, sounding amused and curious. “It would be cute if you weren’t so pale. And you’re shaking.”

“Am I as pale as you?”

“Scoot over,” Herbert completely ignored his question in favour of lying down beside him, body over the blankets, and one arm wrapped around him, effectively trapping Alfred in a blanket-cocoon.

“I appreciate this,” Alfred said, closing his eyes. “But you have to have something more important than needs doing? I promise I’ll go right to sleep. I’ll even drink the tea.”

“Do you want me to leave, darling?” oh, he could _feel_ Herbert pouting now, and he sounded so sad.

“No,” Alfred mumbled, because it was the truth. “I always like having you around.”

Herbert made a low, pleased noise and pressed him close.

“But didn’t you mention that some… err, friends of your father were staying over? Shouldn’t you be, you know, playing host?”

“You’re more important,” Herbert said without missing a beat.

“Oh.” Alfred mumbled, surprised and touched. “That’s… I guess you can stay then.”

“Thank you, _Mon Cheri_.”

Alfred sighed. “You worry too much.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Of course _you_ don’t think so, _I_ think so.”

Herbert chuckled. “Go to sleep, dear heart. I’ll stay right here as long as you want.”

“You can stay forever,” was the last thing Alfred managed to mumble before sleep finally took him.


	5. kitten

“Herbert, what in the world is this.”

“It’s a _cat_ , Alfred!”

“I’m…”

“Isn’t it cute?”

Alfred sighed, leaning down to be face to face with the tiny kitten, blinking up at him. It reached out and hit a small paw against his nose, and then he smiled, brightly.

“I suppose it is.”

Herbert felt all too excited. “It’s for you!”

“Oh, Herbert, I really don’t know if…” the kitten leaned forward, licking his chin. “Oh. Thank you.”

“… Wait, are you going to start giving the cat more attention than me now?” Oh, that wouldn’t do.

Alfred laughed, gently lifting the tiny creature with both hands. “Can you see how your plan is backfiring.”

“I’m picturing it,” Herbert pouted, crossing his arms and glaring at the kitten now. Alfred cradled it close to his chest, scratching behind its ears.

“Thank you,” he said, and Herbert felt some of his annoyance melt away at the sheer gratitude in his voice. _It is only a cat,_ he thought, but didn’t say, instead walking forward to press a kiss against Alfred’s cheek.

“You’re welcome, dear heart,” he said. “You should give her a name.”

“Oh. Oh, I’m bad with names,” Alfred muttered, looking lost.

“I’m sure you’ll come up with something.”


	6. thunder

”Alfred, what… oh!” Herbert nearly dropped the book he had been reading, sitting quietly on his bed, when Alfred had suddenly burst in and decided to join him on it.

Not that Herbert _minded_. At all. In fact, the only reason he was in his room reading, was because Alfred had been busy organising in the library, and when Alfred got into proper organising mood, it was hard to distract him, no matter how many clothes Herbert took off. And when he was successfully distracted, he’d complain about all the work he had missed afterwards, as if he didn’t have eternity to keep organising things.

But Herbert had soon learned that if he let Alfred just do his thing for a while, it wouldn’t take long before he needed a break, or started missing him – or at least so Herbert very much hoped – and went to seek him out again.

He had never, however, come bursting in like this, practically jumping onto Herbert’s bed and sitting as close to him as possible.

“Hello!” Alfred said, his voice slightly high, and Herbert’s eyes narrowed.

“What’s wrong?” he reached down when Alfred quickly looked away. “Are you frightened? Alfred, did someone…”

“No, No, I don’t…” Alfred started, but then a flash of lightning made him flinch, the room illuminated in white light for the merest glimpse of a second, before disappearing again, followed by the clap of thunder in the distance – which made Alfred shake again.

Herbert gaped at him. “Are you… sweetheart, are you scared of the lightning?”

“No,” Alfred quickly said, but then another flash made him close his eyes tightly, swallowing harshly. “I’m… yes. Alright, yes, I am.” He looked flustered and embarrassed, and Herbert would have teased him, had it not been for the look of pure terror on his face, complete discomfort mingling with genuine fear.

Not to mention the fact that Alfred had been scared, and he’d come running to _Herbert._

 “I-I-It’s, n-not, I m-mean, I k-know that sta-statistically, w-we’re safe and we w-won’t…”

“And also, we’re vampires,” Herbert gently inferred, moving his arm slowly to wrap it around Alfred’s shoulders.

“A-and we-we’re v-vampires, b-but still… I…” the next booming noise sounded like it hit right next to the castle, causing even Herbert to lift an eyebrow in surprise: Alfred almost jumped right out of his skin, growing even paler than he already was. Herbert instinctively pulled him close, and Alfred didn’t even protest the coddling.

“I used to be scared of the dark when I was little,” he whispered conspiratorially to Alfred, and the young man’s eyes widened.

“Really?”

“Yes.”

Alfred sighed. “But it doesn’t scare you anymore, does it? Oh, this is so embarrassing.”

“Hmm, you know what does scare me?”

“What?”

“The thought that you might not have burned that ratty old coat of yours yet.”

That startled a laugh out of Alfred. He leaned down, pressing his face into the crook of Herbert’s neck. “I like that coat.”

“It’s _atrocious_ , dear. It has to die.“

Alfred opened his mouth to say something, but another lightning strike made him flinch and close it again, one hand reached out to fist itself in Herbert’s shirt: he only did that when he was truly distressed, Herbert knew, and he had to close his eyes for a moment, to calm himself down.

“It’s alright,” he said, opening them again. “I promise I won’t let you get hurt.”

Alfred snorted. “You’re going to protect me from _lightning_?”

“Yes,” he said without hesitation, feeling Alfred’s soft lashes against his skin as he blinked rapidly in surprise.

“Oh. That’s…”

“I’d do anything for you,” he said, and sensed more than saw Alfred’s smile.

“Even let me wear the coat?” he whispered, humour replacing some of the fear in his voice. Herbert sighed.

“Yes. Just not in public.”

Alfred looked up at him and laughed, and oh, Herbert couldn’t resist that look: he’d leaned down and kissed him before he could even think about it, and for the next few minutes, the thunder outside was studiously ignored by them both.

When he pulled away, Alfred looked slightly dazed, and Herbert’s smile turned wide.

“I missed you, my sweet,” he said. Alfred frowned.

“I was only in the library.”

“Yes, all the way in the library.”

“For about two hours.”

“Two _whole_ hours.”

Alfred laughed again. “I’ll just have to stay here for a while then, don’t I.”

“Hmm, yes,” Herbert leaned down, pressing kisses up along his neck. “You definitely do.”


	7. a hard day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for Kyra! Modern!AU in the same vein as 'under the weather'

Alfred threw his bag as soon as he had stepped inside his room at the dorm, watching it hit the wall and drop to the floor with a pathetic thud. It hadn’t even been a good throw – he was too tired. Apparently, he couldn’t even do that right.

“Sweetheart?” Herbert’s voice called out, and when Alfred rounded the corner, he saw him sitting on his bed, rifling through Alfred’s copy of _Art Through the Ages_ , a pen in hand. He smiled brightly when he saw Alfred, and placed the book back on his nightstand. “Did you have a nice… oh.”

Alfred had walked right over and flopped down on his bed, tiredness seeping through his bones. He rested his head against Herbert’s thigh, and closed his eyes in relief when Herbert immediately sifted his fingers through his hair, a soothing motion that eased the small headache he’d been suffering under since this morning.

“I take it you didn’t have a good day, then?” his voice was gentle, and Alfred sighed in reply.

“What were you doing with my book?” Alfred asked instead, suddenly curious and slightly suspicious.

“Correcting it.”

“You were _correcting it_.”

“It was wrong,” Herbert said, and Alfred could hear the pout in his voice. That made him push himself up, leaning closer to Herbert who only seemed happy about this, despite the fact that Alfred was pretty sure he was frowning at his boyfriend. Still: he wanted to be closer, and he was tired enough not to second-guess it. He crawled over the bed so that he was in-between Herbert’s legs, and he was pretty sure he didn’t even blush when Herbert pulled him into his lap.

“My book was wrong,” Alfred muttered, still not able to completely process the words. “You know, I can’t just start spouting facts that I have no way of knowing unless I was there, in the middle of my classes, to my teachers, who will all think that I’m wrong and just making stuff up.”

Herbert pouted again. “But you’ll be _right_. And besides, you’re smarter than all of the others. They should listen to you.”

Alfred laughed. “Say that to my professor. I think he hates me.”

“Want me to bite him?” Herbert said, smiling just wide enough to let Alfred know that the teasing offer was a serious one, should he agree. He held back a slight shudder, and instead leaned forward so that he could use Herbert’s shoulder as a pillow. Herbert was slightly warmer than was usual – after learning how much Alfred detested the cold, he’d started turning the heat up in his room whenever he’d get there before Alfred, and make sure that the temperature at least wasn’t enough for Alfred to feel like he might as well just have stayed outside in the snow. Now, the effect was pleasant, and Herbert wrapped his arms around Alfred, pressing them close together.

“Are you mad that I wrote in your book?” Herbert asked then, sounding like a five year old begging for forgiveness. Alfred snorted.

“No, not really,” he said, because even if he had been, he couldn’t stay mad at Herbert when he used that voice. “I like it when you tell me about that stuff.”

“And now the next time you have to study, you’ll open the book and see my writing, and then get so horny you call me over.”

Alfred burst out laughing. “Are you writing erotica in my textbooks?”

“The curves on my R’s drive everyone wild,” Herbert said, somehow managing to keep a solemn tone, even though Alfred was still giggling.

Said giggling was interrupted when Herbert suddenly turned them over, pressing Alfred into the bed, and propping himself up on his arms, their legs entangled. His smile shoved too many teeth, and his eyes had gone dark.

“I have to do _something_ while I sit and wait for you here,” he muttered in a low voice, long fingers playing with the soft hair right behind Alfred’s ear, making him shudder. “Since you won’t let me come to classes with you anymore.”

“You got bored and tried to give me a handjob under the desk!” Alfred said, feeling a blush threatening to come upon him just at the memory of that experience.

Herbert looked distressed. “I promised I wouldn’t do that again!”

“Only because I wouldn’t talk to you for two days afterwards.”

“ _Two days,_ Alfred! I’d never endure that again. I swore I’d be nice if you let me just sit in _once_ in a while.”

“You swore on my _bum_ that you’d be nice, that doesn’t count.”

“That’s the most sacred oath I know of!”

Alfred couldn’t help it, he was laughing again. “You’re ridiculous,” he got out, and Herbert made an upset noise.

“I’m _not_. Seriously. How about just once a week? I promise I won’t distract you, I’ll even take notes. And I’ll growl at that teacher of yours, if he makes you have that look on your face again.”

Alfred stopped laughing. “What look?”

“The look you were wearing when you got in here,” Herbert answered, cradling his face gently in one hand as if getting ready to chase ‘that look’ away again. “No-one should make you look like that. Ever.”

Oh, he was blushing now. “It’s fine. He doesn’t bother me that much, I just get exhausted after such a long day. And _no_ , Herbert, you’re not coming to more of my classes or lectures, or _anything_ , because you will get bored and you will decide that I’m the best distraction there is for your boredom, and then I won’t speak to you for _a week,_ if not more.”

“Don’t even say that!” Herbert gasped, and Alfred’s laugh might have been slightly evil. Until Herbert pressed down, his thumb on Alfred’s mouth and his face suddenly much closer than it had been before.

“A whole week?” he asked, pouting again, and before Alfred could answer, Herbert had leaned down and replaced his thumb with his mouth.

Kissing Herbert always seemed to wake Alfred up, even as the sensation caused his mind to relax in pleasure, a drowsiness settling over him as he let Herbert do as he pleased. The guy had centuries worth of experience, and while that wasn’t really a fact that Alfred liked to think about (especially with his own _lack_ of same), it did mean that Herbert kissed like no-one else in the world, or at least so Alfred was pretty damn sure. It wouldn’t be possible, he thought, for two people to be _this_ skilled at it, to be able to make him go weak in the knees and warm in the chest, just with the simplest scrape of blunt teeth over his bottom lip. Herbert had slid one of his hands into Alfred’s hair, holding him gently in place, the other running up and down his side, before sneaking under his shirt, smoothing over his skin. As always, he lingered slightly over the scar there, a reminder of how close they’d been to never meeting at all. Alfred was too lost to even think about it – lost in warmth, and lost in kisses, and lost in Herbert.

His head had started spinning by the time he remembered that he had to breathe, but Herbert was already pulling away, kissing the tip of his nose, his cheekbone and pressing three against his temple, a spot he claimed was _‘soft like silk’_ , before pulling away, a proud look on his face.

“You need to breathe,” he said, and Alfred stopped himself from rolling his eyes, smiling up at him instead.

“You remembered.”

“Mhmm,” Herbert apparently couldn’t stop himself from leaning down and stealing another kiss. “I told you I would. In fact, I _swore_ …”

“On my _eyelashes_.”

“Yes,” Herbert said, looking like he had no idea why Alfred was using such an incredulous tone. “You swear on important things, and every bit of you is important.”

“You’re silly,” Alfred said, mainly because he liked Herbert’s new way of shutting him up: more kisses.

The next day he opened his book in class, only to burst out laughing when he saw the doodle amidst Herbert’s notes, a carefully shaped heart with their names written inside of it.


	8. party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where Alfred sneezes, there is a party and Herbert is a sweetheart.

Alfred sneezed.

It was such a loud noise that he instantly stilled, afraid that someone might have heard him: surely they would have. The sound had seemed almost earthquake-like in its intensity, and he could swear he could see some of the coat stands wobbling slightly next to him.

Why, he wondered, did people never clean out their coats? Especially vampires were horrible at this, it seemed, as if they somehow clung to their own age by accumulating as much dust as possible. ‘Oh look, this speck is from the late fourteenth century! It’s almost as old as I am!’

The Count did the same with his library, Alfred thought, but at least that was a hazard-zone one could choose not to venture into (if one disliked books that was, which Alfred could never fathom the reasons behind, but each to their own).  

Of course, Alfred had technically chosen to hide in the coat-room instead of being at the party, but considering that he had not been at the party for five minutes before someone had pinched his butt (and not even the usual someone), he _really_ didn’t feel like he could be blamed.

So, hiding out in the coat-room it was. It was comfortable enough: he had a low chair to sit on, and the coats meant it was warm in here, at least. The ball room was warm as well, filled with candles and moving bodies (even if most of those bodies didn’t have much of a temperature to speak of), but this place had warm fuzzy fur instead of too-wide grins and Mary Shelley inquiring about his… personal affairs with Herbert.

“What are you doing?”

Speak of the devil.

Alfred yelped and almost fell off his chair, only just managing to hold his balance by the steady hand that had immediately found its way under his elbow. Herbert was getting exceptionally good at catching Alfred, sometimes even leaning in to grasp a hold of him before Alfred even knew he was going to trip. It was so sweet, that Alfred had completely forgiven him for the times he used it as an excuse to grope him too.  

“I’m taking care of the coats,” he said in reply to Herbert’s question, turning around to look at him sheepishly. Herbert stare down at him with a bewildered look on his eyes, though there was a small smile forming on his face.

“You’re taking _care_ of the coats?”

“I’m doing it very well too,” Alfred said, reaching up to tangle his fingers with Herbert’s, moving his hand away from the grip he’d still had on him. “As you can see, they’re all still here.”

Herbert seemed momentarily distracted by the fact that Alfred had taken his hand, a soft smile on his face, but just as Alfred wondered if kissing would prove an even better distraction, his eyes snapped back up to his, slightly narrowed.

“Were you _hiding_ out here?”

“Um. Only a little bit.” Alfred said, a little afraid Herbert would get annoyed or mad with him – Alfred had a bad tendency to be a mood-killer at events like these, even when Herbert spent ages trying to convince him to go, and then tried his best to make sure Alfred had a good time. Only, Alfred didn’t need a babysitter, and it wasn’t fair to Herbert, either, who wanted to be the life of the party, and was good at it too, the centre of attention as easily as Alfred was not. Sometimes, he really didn’t know why Herbert bothered: he should be with someone much more vibrant than him, someone who’d be as enthusiastic about the same things as he was.

Suddenly his face was being tilted up, Herbert’s hand gentle but insistent. The vampire was frowning down at him.

“Is something wrong, darling?” he asked, his thumb smoothing over Alfred’s jaw, reaching the edge of his lips. “Did something happen?”

“N-no,” Alfred hurried to reassure him. “I… everything is fine. I was just… not feeling well.”

Wrong thing to say.

“Are you ill?” Herbert had reached for his arm again now, clutching it like he could somehow make everything better just by holding tightly to Alfred. Not that he minded, but it was a silly thought.

“No, really, I’m not,” he said, a little impatience creeping into his voice. “I was merely… I wasn’t really feeling… with so many people there… I suppose I needed some space.”

“Ah.” Herbert said, as if this explained everything, which Alfred supposed it did, except he had thought he’d be getting a pouting and sulky Herbert instead of… “You can go back to your rooms, if you don’t want to be here, its fine. If you want, I could go with you?” he winked as he said the last part, and Alfred felt himself blush.

“It’s fine,” he quickly said. “I don’t want to drag you away from the party.”

“Oh,” Herbert’s face fell, but it only lasted for a second, before he was back to smiling. He lifted Alfred’s hands to his own, pressing a light kiss against the knuckles. “Well, I will leave you to your rest then.” He winked again. “Think of me?”

“Always,” Alfred laughed, missing the look on Herbert’s face as he turned around to leave.

The music from the party was a faint echo back at his own rooms, but it was still enough to make him feel like a headache was coming on. All the dust in the coat-room hadn’t helped either, and it really was foolish of Alfred to think of hiding in there in the first place. Childish, too, and simply another disappointment to Herbert. He sighed and slid down on his bed, only just bothering to take off his jacket and shoes. He felt miserable, suddenly, a tightness in his chest clutching harder and harder, and he wondered if he really should have left the ball, if he was only going to lie here anyway.

He did fall asleep, however, or rather he ended up slipping in and out of it, the low beat of the music like a humming ocean in the background.

It wasn’t until the sheets around him shifted and he was suddenly enveloped in strong arms, that Alfred came back to himself. It was still dark all around him, meaning not much time could have passed, and Herbert’s silver-blond hair was falling like a curtain over him, the vampire stilling as if caught doing something he shouldn’t have been.

“I didn’t mean to wake you,” he whispered, looking regretful. He leaned down and brushed the back of his hand over Alfred’s cheek, replacing it with his lips not soon after. The kiss felt like an apology, and Alfred frowned at the thought.

“I wasn’t really asleep,” he mumbled, rubbing at his eyes. “Is the party already over? I can hear the music.”

Herbert mumbled something he couldn’t hear, but before Alfred could ask, Herbert had laid down behind him, pulling him flush against his chest and burying his face in the back of his neck.

“Missed you,” he said then, and Alfred felt the iron-grip in his chest spring loose. “Kept thinking of you, and thought I’d rather be here.”

Oh, it was ridiculous how happy Alfred was feeling now. “You thought I’d be asleep,” he pointed out, and Herbert made a soft humming noise in agreement.

“I was tired anyway.”

“No, you weren’t.”

Herbert ignored him, kissing his neck once, twice, warm from the wine Herbert had been drinking. “I missed you,” he said again, as if that was all the reason he needed in the world to leave his father’s party to simply sleep and hold his lover. Alfred supposed that it was, at least for someone like Herbert.

“You’re thinking too hard,” Herbert broke him out of his thoughts, still keeping his voice low and just for Alfred to hear. “Go to sleep, love.”

Alfred, wrapped safely in Herbert’s arms, finally slept.


	9. and the rain stopped falling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Herbert looked up at him now, possibly because of the sheer confusion in his voice. “Alfred,” he said. “All I want is for you to be happy.”

Alfred took the stairs up two at a time. It wasn’t that he was anxious, per se, but Magda had said that Herbert was waiting for him, and she had sounded… off, somehow, like she was delivering more important news, than what belied her usual attitude of _‘your lover is using me as a carrier pigeon again, please make him stop’._

Herbert was sitting by the table, staring down at it as if it held all the secrets of the universe, but he got up when Alfred opened the door. Now _he l_ ooked anxious, or grave at least, and it was so unusual and unsettling that Alfred stopped short and stared at him.

“What’s wrong?” he blurted out, and then flushed at his own forwardness. Herbert’s smile seemed forced, but still fond.

“Nothing’s wrong,” he said, walking over and taking Alfred’s hand between his own. “I have merely… been presented an opportunity. Or rather, you have.”

Alfred’s brow furrowed. “Herbert, you’re acting really strange,” he said. He’d been here for two whole minutes now, and Herbert had neither kissed him nor complimented him on his eyes or hair or whatever seemed to be his most outstanding attribute today. Not that Alfred _needed_ those kinds of things (though the kisses were very nice), but it was a break in a very persistent pattern of Herbert’s, and he couldn’t help but note it.

“Please, come sit,” Herbert said, apparently not going to explain. He pulled Alfred with him over to the couch, still holding his hand tightly. He wasn’t meeting Alfred’s eyes, and it was making him extremely nervous. Was he being kicked out?

“There is…” Herbert started, and then stopped himself again, twining their fingers together. “There is a witch, in Norway, who…”

Herbert stopped, and Alfred stared, until the seconds ticked by and it became apparent that Herbert had lost his way of speech entirely.

“Who has a lot of cats?” Alfred finished, at least drawing a small smile for his foolish attempt at a joke. “Herbert, just tell me.” What could be so bad that it was leaving him of all people speechless?

“She has a way of turning you human again,” the words left him in a rush, as if they needed to be pushed out rather than spoken normally, and they hit Alfred like a ton of bricks.

“She _what?”_

“You heard me,” Herbert said, his voice tense and his grip too tight. Alfred hardly even noticed. _This can’t be._

“What’s the price?” he got out, because it couldn’t be, the cost had to be the universe, it simply couldn’t be.

“Your knowledge of being a vampire,” Herbert explained, and his words were clinical now, as if he had practiced this speech beforehand, and was given it methodically now. It hurt Alfred’s heart more than anything else. “Your… experiences, and your… the fever in your blood, so that if you… were ever under another attempt to be turned, it would not work. You would be fully human. For ev… for the rest of your days. It… she can explain it better to you, a-and I said I would contact her swiftly because the journey is long and…”

He was getting up, but Alfred tightened his grip, suddenly terrified of the notion of Herbert leaving him alone with his thoughts.

“Stop! Just wait!” he pleaded, and Herbert sat back down, his eyes unreadable. “I’m… I would lose my memory?”

“Not exactly,” Herbert said. “You’d still… remember us. But not being a vampire, or rather, you would… the things you see now, the sensations you feel, they’d be gone.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Do you remember what it was like to be a five year old?” Herbert asked, sounding impatient. Alfred lifted an eyebrow.

“Did you just compare vampirism to being a toddler?”

Herbert’s lip quirked, but his eyes still looked haunted. “For some, perhaps. Present company excluded, of course.”

“Funny, it was parts of the present company that _I_ was thinking of.”

“Oh, ha ha,” Herbert intoned, not able to hide his smile now, but it was only for a moment, before the shadows moved over his face again. “Alfred, you will have… time to think about your decision, of course, while we wait for her to come here, but I…” he looked down again, his jaw set in a tight line. “I know how miserable you are.” He whispered, and Alfred stared and thought _no._ “I know this is never the way you wanted to be, the way…”

“You’ve been looking,” he suddenly realised. “You’ve been… looking for a way that I could become human again so that… because I was unhappy?”

Herbert looked up at him now, possibly because of the sheer confusion in his voice. “Alfred,” he said. “All I want is for you to be happy.”

He was lost for words for several minutes, could only clutch at Herbert’s hand as if it was a lifeline. “Did you say… that it would… that I couldn’t be… turned back, the other way around, as it was?”

“Yes,” Herbert nodded, his voice only quivering slightly. “You would stay human no matter what until the… you would stay human.”

It was, Alfred thought, a good offer. Life as a vampire didn’t suit him. He was bad at it, he’d be the first to admit it, and his morals constantly warred with the side of him that now whispered and yearned for the kill, the sweet taste of fresh blood past his lips. In the deepest, darkest hours of night, Alfred hated it, more than he had ever hated anything in his life.

In the deepest, darkest hours of night, when Herbert felt him becoming too restless, he’d draw him close into his arms and whisper stories into his hair, hum sweet songs to him until he fell asleep, and make Alfred feel more loved than he had ever been before.

“It would be silly to call her,” he said then, finding the words slowly and carefully, but feeling no regret as they formed. “Only to send her back when her services aren’t needed.”

Herbert stared at him in utter shock. “What… Alfred…”

“I can’t say that I like being a vampire,” he admitted, and it wasn’t like it was a secret, but he knew it hurt Herbert, and so it tore at him as well. “But… but I might get adjusted. One day. One day it might seem easier. And… and the prospect of… a few nights ago you promised… you told me that I was… you told me what I was to you, and while I still have trouble believing it…”

“I meant it,” Herbert hurriedly said, his eyes and voice fierce. “Alfred, you must know, I meant every word.”

“In that case,” he kept going, flushing with happiness and slight uneasiness at having someone confess _forever_ to him. “If… if I suddenly change my mind, and then… seventy years is not much in comparison to… to eternity, and I….”

“Alfred,” Herbert’s voice was gentle now. “Love… I need you to be sure. This offer might not come again. Ever.”

“I know.”

“If you’re not…”

“Herbert, I’m trying to tell you that I love you,” Alfred finally said, letting out a little laugh at his own foolishness. Now Herbert was _really_ staring, as if Alfred had just tried to convince him that he’d plucked the moon from the sky and planted it in their back-yard. “I do not want to trade anything, not even my own comfort or the chance at growing old, not sunlight or religion or anything, for you. I… I only want you.”

The seconds ticked past, and still Herbert was only staring at him. Alfred wet his lips, becoming nervous now.

“A-are you alright? Did I… I-I apologise if I have overstepped my bounds, I-I didn’t mean to m-make you uncomfortable… I-I realise… Oh, I screwed it up didn’t I? It was only, with your confession the o-other night I-I thought… I m-merely meant…”

Herbert, still not saying a word, lifted his hand and placed one finger against Alfred’s lips, effectively silencing him. His eyes, as they bore into Alfred’s, seemed to be on fire.

“You love me?” he asked. “You… love me enough to give up your chance at humanity?”

This was strange, Alfred thought. Usually it was him questioning confessions like that.

Had he truly made Herbert feel like he wasn’t as in love, as Herbert claimed to be?

 _Alfred, darling,_ a voice that sounded suspiciously like the other vampire sounded in his head. _Rewind that sentence, would you please._

Oh. _Oh_.

Oh, what a pair of fools they were.

“You’re smiling,” Herbert observed, taking his hand away, and yes, Alfred found, he was, so brightly it almost hurt his face.

“I simply had an epiphany,” he said. “It was quite wonderful. You should try it sometime.”

Herbert gave him another strange look, but he seemed distracted still. “You… say it again.”

Alfred frowned. “I had an epiphany?”

“No, not that.”

“It was wonderful…”

“ _Not that!”_

He laughed. “Oh. I love you. _Ouch!_ ” he yelled as Herbert suddenly pounced on him, his head accidentally colliding with the arm-rest of the couch. Herbert took exactly five seconds to check that there was no serious injury, before pressing him down into the cushions, kissing him wildly. Alfred dug his fingers into Herbert’s shoulders, holding on for dear life, until Herbert pulled away, burying his face in Alfred’s neck instead.

He tried to catch the breath he didn’t need, gathering his thoughts even as Herbert bit down gently and he shivered. “’A witch from Norway’” he muttered, rolling his eyes. “How much did you research this, exactly?”

Herbert stilled against him, and Alfred’s dead heart gave a slight, painful thud.

“Oh,” he muttered, tightening his grip. “I…”

“I am sorry I kept it from you,” Herbert muttered, still hiding his face in the crook of Alfred’s shoulder. “I was… afraid. I was… Oh,” he suddenly laughed, a sound filled with relief. “I was _so_ afraid, but you didn’t even…” he finally pulled away, propping himself up on his hands and leaning over him. “You want to _stay_ with me,” he said, grinning like the cat that got the canary. A not entirely unfitting image, Alfred thought. “ _Forever.”_

“It does seem that way,” he teased. “I’m afraid there’ll be no getting rid of me.”

Herbert snorted. “You,” he said, pressing one kiss against Alfred’s mouth, short and warm and sweet, and then another. “Are ridiculous.”

“That’s not very nice.”

“Well, I am not very nice in general,” Herbert said, his grin turning wicked.

“I think you’re rather nice to me,” Alfred retaliated. “Although that might be because of the thing with my tongue I can do, that you seem to like so much.”

Herbert lifted an eyebrow, looking all too excited. “Do it right now?”

“Alright,” Alfred laughed, pulling him down for another kiss. “And Herbert?”

“Yes?”

“I… I love you,” he repeated, feeling awkward about it, but the way Herbert’s whole face lit up made it more than worth it.


	10. dark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this is kyra's fault
> 
> (warning: character death below)

Herbert had kissed Alfred and it had tasted like blood. That was not unusual. It often did, and Alfred had learned long ago not to cringe. But something about it this time made it different. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but then Herbert leaned forward, sagging slightly, and clutched at his arms.

“Herbert?” Alfred tried to keep him upright, but it was like his own strength was sapping from him too, draining out of him. Had Herbert drawn out his very soul with that final kiss? Was his spirit finally leaving him?

Alfred would not say that it would have been unwelcome. Years as a vampire, and he was still miserable.

Herbert’s eyes, when he looked at Alfred, were glassy, and there was more blood welling out of his mouth, oh, it had to be his own, but he was _smiling_ , and Alfred felt a prick of concern.

“Are you alright? Herbert, what’s happening?”

“Sssh,” he muttered, cradling Alfred’s face and pressing their foreheads together. He almost stumbled from that small action, and Alfred had to keep him upright. “I know that… I know that it has been difficult, for you… since…”

“You really look ill,” Alfred said, drawing away slightly so he could put a hand on Herbert’s forehead. He almost flinched in shock: Herbert was burning up, a highly unnatural thing for a vampire. “What’s wrong?!”

“Since we lost the others,” Herbert seemed to finally gather himself enough to finish his sentence, completely ignoring Alfred’s question in the process. “Since… Father and Magda… it’s just been us for a while.” He stumbled slightly again, his fingers digging painfully into Alfred’s arms.

“Y-yes, Herbert, I know that, it’s… been hard, but we…” he couldn’t finish the sentence. He had never been a good liar, and it was not fair, either way, lying to someone who seemed so affectionate of him. But it was true. Ever since the hunters had come, and the Count had been lost, and then Magda and then Sarah, and even the Professor… it had just been Herbert and Alfred, and Alfred had hated it. There were too few distractions, and he could not escape his own crawling skin: he could not go on as a vampire, but no matter where he turned, Herbert was always there, drawing out smiles and showing him new sights, and making him feel guilty enough to stay, just for a little while longer. Alfred knew that Herbert didn’t mean to make him feel guilty, or obligated to stay, but that had only made him feel even worse about his continued miserable state. It was only lately that Herbert had started to grow a little distance, and Alfred had thought the novelty had finally worn off: Herbert would find some of his old friends, gather what remaining family he had, and move on. And Alfred would be alone, and… and free.

But now Herbert was clutching at him tightly, paler than was usual, blood marring his face and clothes. He was _bleeding_ , and somehow, he wasn’t healing, and Alfred was panicking.

“Herbert?!” he repeated, and the older vampires eyes snapped open again, staring down at him with an almost fever-like intensity.

“It’s alright,” he said, and smiled again. “It’s alright.”

“No… no, we need to do something, you are clearly not well. Can we… get you to a doctor?”

Herbert laughed, full and throaty and _lacking,_ because he clearly did not have the energy for it. “You are the sweetest thing,” he said, pressing their foreheads together again, as if he couldn’t get quite close enough. “There won’t be need for a doctor, my love. I know what’s wrong.”

“Well, then tell me, so that we can fix it!” Alfred said, a slight note of hysteria in his voice. Herbert only smiled.

“There is nothing to fix,” he said. “I did this for you. Please, Alfred…”

He didn’t give Alfred time to ask again, instead leaning down and kissing him again, pressing hard and clinging to him, like he was afraid Alfred would disappear in wisp of smoke and fog. Alfred closed his eyes, the taste of Herbert’s blood making his head reel. He was getting dizzy, and afraid he wouldn’t be able to hold Herbert up for much longer.

He didn’t need to. The vampire drew away, and then sagged to the floor, bringing him with him. His eyes were still closed.

“Herbert?” Alfred whispered, but there was no reaction, no response, only clouds of ashes filling the air in his wake, and Alfred’s shocked silence as his heart gave a deep, dull thud and started beating again.


	11. light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this one is also kyra's fault

Herbert threw himself down, crossing his legs for a more comfortable position. “I am _so tired_ ,” he whined, closing his eyes. “Father is in one of his moods again, and Magda’s gotten it into her head to plan a trip to Munich of all places! When I asked her why she kept mumbling about statues and ponies, and I didn’t even want to know more by then. Am I this bad when I get my sudden ideas? Don’t answer that. My ideas are always fabulous.”

Alfred, as expected, didn’t answer, but even with his head tipped back and his eyes closed, Herbert could imagine him smiling slightly, turning the pages of his book as Herbert shifted just a bit closer.

“It’s just like when she thought she should get back into painting and she made you give her lessons. I mean, it’s not like we can all be the next Da Vinci, really.”

At this, Alfred gave him a look – Herbert could just feel it. “I know, I know. I’ve been in my phases too. We’re still not speaking of the banana-incident, but that time in London you _have_ to admit you had fun.” He cracked one eye open and grinned widely, before lying down, stretching out his legs and putting his hands behind his head. His eyes slipped closed again, his mind humming with content – he could see stars and constellations on the backs of his eyelids, and he could see Alfred, returning his attentions to his book and letting Herbert prattle on.

“You know,” he continued, a faint breeze tickling his nose. “I think a trip to Munich might be nice. We have been holed up in here for a while now. Leave it to Magda to try and draw us out when we start becoming too hermit-like.”

He could hear Alfred snort at that.

“Yes, yes, I know what you’re thinking. We can’t be hermits, there’s too many of us. Well, my love, where there’s a will, there’s a way, as Father always says. Actually, I’ve never heard him say that, but let’s pretend.”

He smirked as Alfred laughed, the sound lost to another wind intruding on them. Herbert opened his eyes fully now, looking at the real stars above, tracing the shapes of them. The grass under him felt soft, and the coolness didn’t bother him. It had once, he knew. But that was a long time ago. The moon wasn’t quite full, and it seemed to be smiling at him. Such a beautiful night.

“I wish I could see you in the sunlight,” he said, drawing himself up carefully, hugging his knee to his chest, the other leg bend against the grass. A spider was crawling over the folds of his silks, but he let it: it was small and curious, and seemed somehow lost.

He imagined Alfred putting his book aside, leaning down and inspecting the spider. He’d know what species it was, could probably classify it and he’d tell him the roots of the Latin in its name, and Herbert would smile and pretend he didn’t know that part already. The spider crawled back into the grass, disappearing from view. It had offered as a nice distraction, Herbert thought, and it deserved thanks for that.

He raised his head and looked at the tomb-stone in front of him, the moon the only light to see it by. _I wish I could see you in the sunlight_ , he thought again, wondering if the letters of his name would be as soft as Alfred’s skin had been, but knowing it was impossible, carved into stone as they were.

_I wish I could see you at all._


	12. weakness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Because cayenna-lamia requested:
> 
> I’d love a drabble where Alfred finds out Herbert’s weaknesses and how to take advantage of them because Herbert being surprised is hella cute
> 
> for AlfredxHerbert week, so here we go:

Herbert was not infallible: this Alfred knew. He was childish and moody and could sulk with the best of them. But, at least these days, he did seem very close to perfect. In control when it counted, so smart it made Alfred self-conscious, beautiful, funny and caring in a way that still baffled and confused him as much as it made his skin tingle and his heart give a beat in joy. Even if it was a dead heart, and shouldn’t be able to do that in the first place.

It wasn’t that Alfred minded: it wasn’t that he had gone and _deliberately_ looked for Herbert’s weaknesses, or anything like that.

No, at least the first one had happened on pure accident, and really, it was as much a coincidence as anything else: a coincidence that one of the cats sometimes found in the stables should give birth to kittens, and a coincidence that Alfred should find them before the cold winds outside took their lives, or one of the horses accidentally trampled on them.

“See, this one looks like the mother,” Alfred had said, gushing only slightly, and lightly picking up the runt of the litter. It blinked up at him, with eyes that had only just started to work, its orange fur one of the softest things he had ever felt.  “Isn’t she cute? Herbert?”

Herbert was staring at him, completely mesmerised, not paying attention to the cats at all. He reached out his hand and gently stroked the back of his fingers over Alfred’s cheek, his touch so soft it was hardly even there.

“Um… Herbert?”

“I have to go!” the older vampire suddenly yelled, scaring the kittens so much that one of them fell over where it stood, and then quickly getting up and running out of the stables.

Apparently, as Magda would later explain to him, the combination of Alfred and six fluffy kittens, was simply too much for Herbert’s brain to handle.

*

The next time it happened was on their trip to London shortly after. Alfred was tired after all the traveling, and merely wanted to spend the first day of their stay in their accommodations, resting and unpacking, but Herbert was kicking up a fuss, wanting to go to the theatre right away.

“They close by the end of the week, Alfred, and what if tomorrow you say ‘oh I fancy looking at the museums more’ instead, or what if you get a headache or you get kidnapped, what if the hotel suddenly bursts into flames and we have to save all of our belongings and find another place to stay and miss it or…”

“Fine!” Alfred interrupted, feeling too exhausted to be agreeable at all. Herbert peered up at him from where he had thrown himself, rather unceremoniously, on Alfred’s bed. “ _Fine_ , we’ll go to the theatre tonight, just…” he turned around and pulled off his shirt, not caring at all that Herbert was in there right now, rifling through the closet for a new one. “Just, let me find some other clothes and we can… oh, dammit, Herbert have you seen my vest?”

He turned around, only to find the vampire staring at him, again, this time with a very different expression than he had sported when Alfred had been playing with kittens, although it was no less intense.

“Herbert?”

This time, he didn’t even say anything, merely stood up from his place on the bed and walked out, now awkwardly looking everywhere but at Herbert. Magda appeared in the doorway only seconds later, narrowing her eyes at Alfred.

“Are you _trying_ to break him?”

“I don’t _even know what I did!”_

*

The perhaps best and most certainly funniest discovery of Herbert’s assorted ‘weaknesses’, came later, at the theatre, and happened completely by accident, when Alfred crowded a little too closer to whisper his question, and accidentally brushed his fingers up against the dip at Herbert’s neck, where his collarbone swayed and lifted. Herbert jumped and let out a low, high-pitched sound, moving away from him quickly. Alfred gaped at him.

“Oh my god, Herbert, are you ticklish?”

“Don’t tell _anyone!”_


	13. headache

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> because I’ve been bothering with a bad headache almost all day, and it is the start of AxH week, I present you with modern!au, human!Alfred and vampire!Herbert, and a creature of the night being the one in need of some care and loving for once

“I didn’t even know vampires could get headaches,” Alfred muttered, hesitating only slightly before he pressed the cool cloth to Herbert’s forehead. He’d have thought it was the vampire being dramatic again, wanting Alfred to play nurse, but he hadn’t made a joke about that even once since Alfred got there, and that meant it had to be bad.

“Very rarely,” Herbert muttered in reply, closing his eyes in obvious relief. He did feel strangely warm, Alfred thought, not at all like an ill human, but a lukewarm temperature that was not at all common for vampires, or at least the vampires that he knew. “But when we do, it’s… not pleasant.”

“Headaches aren’t, as a rule,” he mused, fingers slipping slightly off the cloth and brushing against Herbert’s hair. The vampire’s eyes slid open, slowly, squinting slightly as if the light around them hurt him. Alfred immediately leaned out and dulled the bedside table lamp, hoping it would help just a little.

“You don’t have to stay, you know,” Herbert surprised him by saying, voice tired and _odd,_ because Herbert was never tired. Herbert had enough energy to power a small city – his pouting and complaints about _five more minutes_ and _Alfred, you can miss your morning classes, cuddling me is much more important, really_ were born of laziness and a desire for any excuse to be between the sheets. As soon as other opportunities, exciting or even mildly interesting presented themselves, he was fully awake in a flash. In the weekends, he always woke first, possibly because of his former nocturnal nature, and Alfred appreciated the already made coffee a _lot_ , because he was definitely not a morning person, a fact Herbert seemed to find as endearing as everyone else had found it annoying.

He ducked his head, retrieving the cloth and dipping it in the bowl again, slowly wringing it. His hands were shaking only slightly, but he knew Herbert would catch it.

“I want to,” he mumbled, not loud enough for human ears. Herbert’s smile, when Alfred finally looked back at him, was soft and grateful, with no edges left from the pain coursing through him.

*

Alfred wasn’t really aware of when he had fallen asleep, but someone – most likely Herbert, or at least he hoped it was Herbert – had gotten him out of his jeans at some point, letting him lie much more comfortable than he would have with them still on. He was under the covers, tucked in like a small child, and it took him a few seconds to realise that he was alone in the bed.

And then he _wasn’t_ , when Herbert chose that exact moment to jump onto the mattress, landing gracefully on all fours right above Alfred, who gave a very dignified shriek at being suddenly bounced up and down. Herbert grinned down at him widely, his long hair brushing against Alfred’s face.

“Goodmorning, my cute little sugarplum,” he sang, and Alfred responded by muttering something rude and burying his face in the pillow. “Aw, come now, darling, don’t be so glum. Your magical powers of love healed me! I’m all better! Be proud of yourself!”

He couldn’t help but smile, knowing Herbert would sense it even though his face was currently hidden by the lovely, soft pillow, that had the added bonus of smelling like his boyfriend.

“I think that’s just what usually happens when you rest after getting a headache,” he mumbled. “Unless there’s something seriously wrong, but somehow, I don’t think you’re dying.”

Herbert ignored what he was saying completely, leaning even closer to brush his mouth and nose along Alfred’s cheek, pressing light, soft kisses that made him shiver.

“You should give yourself more credit,” he whispered against his skin. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Alfred turned his head slightly at that, trying to keep the frown away from his face, and failing spectacularly. “I’m sure you’d manage.”

Oh. Dangerous territory. Suddenly Alfred wanted to go back to sleep for far different reasons, and for a moment, just a moment, he could read the displeasure and pain in the lines around Herbert’s mouth, in the frozen look in his eyes. But then it seemed to melt away again, and he sighed in relief.

“Love you,” Herbert muttered, sounding almost sleepy, and leaned down to press his lips against Alfred’s. He felt warmer than he usually did, and tasted faintly of green tea, not the type he usually liked, but the only one currently in Alfred’s kitchen. He wondered if Herbert had made himself a cup because Alfred had told him he liked how warm it made his mouth, but that was just silly. Herbert probably didn’t even remember.

“I’m glad you’re feeling better,” he said, when Herbert pulled away so he could breathe. “Usually it’s me that needs all the taken care off. It was nice that I could repay you a bit. I mean, it wasn’t nice that you were in pain, of course not, I just meant that it was, that y-you know, that I-I could h-help and oh, oh no…”

Herbert shushed him gently, running his long fingers through Alfred’s hair. “I know what you meant, sweetheart. And for the record, you don’t have to repay me. If I had to sit at home doing nothing all the times you’re ill or fall down and get yourself injured, I’d drive myself over the edge with worry.”

“But still,” he mumbled, casting his eyes down. “I’m… I-I know, I c-can be a lot of b-bother and I-I get tired after classes, usually, and I come back and j-just fall asleep on you a-and…”

“Alfred,” Herbert interrupted him, voice gentle but firm. “I would rather spend the rest of eternity simply sleeping beside you, than be awake and without you.”

He could feel himself blushing, and Herbert could probably hear how fast his heart was beating. “Oh,” he mumbled, a smile tugging at his mouth. “That… sounds nice.”

Herbert lifted an eyebrow. “You’re not going back to sleep now, _Mon Cheri_.”

“What, bored after just lying in bed all evening?” he laughed, but there was an intent look on Herbert’s face that quickly made him stop.

“I don’t actually think I’m _quite_ healed yet,” Herbert said, sighing deeply and dramatically. “I think I will most likely need my _nurse_ to take care of me for a little while longer.”

This time, Alfred couldn’t stop his smile. “You’re incorrigible.”

“You love it.”

“True,” he said, mainly to watch the way Herbert’s eyes lit up when he said that. “The nurse _is_ kind of tired, though. Can he stay in bed while he does your check up?”

Herbert’s laugh filled the room. “He most _definitely_ can.”  


End file.
